


Hurt

by TheGreatLibraryFangirl (Mazeem)



Series: Kink and Bone [4]
Category: The Great Library Series - Rachel Caine
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Khalila gets triggered, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Panic Attack, Pegging, Topdrop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:55:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26894050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazeem/pseuds/TheGreatLibraryFangirl
Summary: Exploring kink as a newlywed couple isn't all fun and games. Khalila wants to meet Dario's desires, and she doesn't always safeguard her own mental health in the process.(Vaguely excused as Day 31: Free Day of Kinktober 2020)
Relationships: Dario Santiago/Khalila Seif
Series: Kink and Bone [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1444414
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously set early in their relationship post-marriage, but it's also written fairly early on in my thought processes too.

''What do you want?'' Khalila asked, teasingly tracing the outline of her husband's extraordinarily kissable mouth. She'd promised him something adventurous tonight, after her time away in India, and she thought she knew what he would ask for. 

Dario fluttered his eyelashes. ''Oh, anything you want, my beloved rose. Just don’t hurt me.”

That hit her in the chest like a physical blow, so hard that it robbed her of breath and left her feeling stunned and frantic.

 _That_ changed her plans. 

She wasn’t a sadist, and it had taken a lot for Dario to convince her that he wanted to be flogged, that he enjoyed the heavy thudding pain and wasn’t using it for self-harm. 

She worried every time that something might go wrong, that the flogger might wrap, that she might bruise him more deeply than he liked. 

Hearing it phrased like that was awful. Was that really how he viewed it? Her hurting him? Had she somehow got it that wrong?

She didn’t want to hurt him.

Dario was still waiting for a response, his face so beautifully open and trusting.

“Of course not, darling.” Her heart thundered in her chest. “Why don’t you go to the bathroom and freshen up for me? Set the timer for twenty minutes. Let me set things up.” 

And if those twenty minutes involved fifteen minutes of trying to control her breathing and not cry, well, he didn’t need to know that. 

No flogging. Absolutely no flogging. 

Even the padded, soft handcuffs made her feel ill. 

Eventually she settled on a thin dildo. They'd done that particular act enough together - and she knew Dario sometimes enjoyed it solo too - that she could ignore the part of her mind that pointed out how very delicate the anus and rectum were. 

Still, she grabbed the biggest jar of lubrication that they possessed. Just to be safe. 

She managed to keep herself under control until Dario caught his balls while they were repositioning and let out a pained yelp and tapped to pause the action. 

At which point her brain slammed her with twin horrors: _You failed_ and _You hurt him_ , and her vision tunnelled and her heart pounded so hard that she could feel it in her skull, in her fingertips. 

_Just … don’t hurt me._

With all her might, she fought to keep her breathing steady. 

It took him a minute or two to be ready to go again after the insult to his testicles, and then, thank god, his position on his stomach meant that he couldn’t see her face. 

She started thrusting again, but slowly. Every time she so much as moved, her body sent new waves of panic to her brain. 

Was she hurting him? 

Oh Allah help her. 

She didn’t want to hurt him. 

Eventually she stopped. Couldn’t bear it any longer. His hips were warm under her hands, but the sensation was somehow distant. 

Her heart was still pounding like it might burst from her chest at any moment. There was a block of ice sitting inside her and she couldn’t breathe properly through it. 

“Come on,” Dario’s voice seemed very far away. His hips wiggled in her grip. “You getting tired already, love?” 

“Sorry.” She moved in and out again, shallowly. “Are you all right? Not painful at all?” Her throat closed on that sentence, but she managed to force it through.

“I’m fabulous. But we can take a break if you want? You sound a bit knackered.” 

“Good idea.” She pulled the dildo free with a feeling of relief that nearly knocked her over. She shut her eyes. Just for a second. Just to help her focus on her breathing. Just for a moment. 

“You gone to sleep back there, flower?” She heard him. She just didn’t want to open her eyes. Didn’t want to do anything. Just wanted to stay here, perfectly still, in the dark, where she knew she couldn’t possibly be doing anything wrong. 

There was a shuffling sound. Then, loud, alarmed: “Khalila?” Her throat slammed shut again and she choked on it. 

“Sorry,” she squeaked out, and suddenly Dario’s legs were twisting underneath her, and his arms were around her. 

“What’s wrong?” She buried her head in his shoulder and finally let her ragged breathing turn into sobs. Started to shake like a leaf, until her legs felt like water.

He lifted her onto his lap and she clung to him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked again. He stroked her head. “You’re hyperventilating. Sorry, that’s obvious. Is this better? Is this helping?” 

She nodded, more to stop him sounding so panicked than in answer to his question. It _was_ a little better, though. Nothing was happening. Nothing to make her worry. 

“Are you ok?” she asked eventually, once she could reliably speak. “I didn’t hurt you?” Her heart rate picked up again just saying it out loud. Oh, her chest ached. 

“No.” He sounded bewildered. “No, of course you … oh fuck.” He sucked a sharp breath in. “I said that, didn’t I? I haven’t phrased it like that before, have I? And now you’re … you don’t even … oh shit.” 

“Don’t you start panicking as well.” She tried to laugh, but she wasn’t quite there yet. Couldn’t quite bring herself to open her eyes to watch his face. 

His answering laugh was shaky. Weren’t they a pair? 

“I didn’t mean that. I never mean that. You don’t hurt me, my love. I’d tell you if you did, ever, by accident, land a hit wrong or something. You’re truly wonderful. You always give me what I want.” His arms were around her almost too tightly, but it was somehow what she needed, right now. “Come on. Cuddle time.” 

They shuffled up the bed. For once, she didn’t protest when he pulled up the bedcovers (in the middle of the day, in summer). She felt drained and shaky and the weight and warmth was surprisingly comfortable. 

“Thank you. Sorry,” she mumbled into the soft skin of his neck. 

“Fuck’s sake, flower, don’t thank me. Don’t apologise. It’s my fault.” He shifted her hair and put a lovely warm hand on the back of her neck. “Are you feeling better now? You’re not shivering as much.” 

She nodded. 

“Are we staying like this?” 

Another nod. “Please.” 

“Oh, God. Of course.” He kissed her cheek. “Anything. Whatever you want. I’ll stay like this until tomorrow if you want.” 

She wanted to get rid of the concern in his voice, but her brain wasn’t working properly. So she just found his lips with her fingers and tapped them and murmured, “Ssh.” It seemed to do the job for a few moments, during which she nearly fell asleep. 

But she should have known Dario couldn’t shut up for long without an explicit order. 

“Let’s put a moratorium on the hitting stuff for now, then.” She opened her eyes and tried to gather the focus to glare at him. 

“No. Don’t be stupid.” 

“I’m not being stupid.” He held her gaze, serious and thoughtful. “I knew you were only doing it because I wanted it, but this didn’t come from nowhere.” He licked his thumb and brushed at the tacky tear trails on her face. “I like being hit, but right now the thought that every time you’ve done it you’ve been fretting unnecessarily is making me feel a bit sick.” 

“Not every time,” she protested.

He raised his eyebrows at her, and now she was recovered enough to laugh a little.

“We’ll talk about it later. You’re right. Get our heads straight before we try again.” She leaned in and they shared a gentle, warm, slow kiss. “Now, shut up and let me have a nap,” she whispered, still so close that their lips touched as she spoke. 

He smiled at her. It was a wonderful sight, that soft, fond smile of his, and she held onto it as her eyes slid shut.


End file.
